


Happy Fucking Christmas

by yesIam



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-22
Updated: 2007-01-22
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8181391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesIam/pseuds/yesIam
Summary: Harry and Draco make Christmas cookies





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Hex Files](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Hex_Files), which was closed for financial and health reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Hex Files collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thehexfiles/profile).

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, I own nothing and make nothing, characters are entirely JK's and whoever publishes.

Author Note: I published this elsewhere for Christmas this year, I found it quite entertaining and I do love a snarky, pissed Draco.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Harry,” Draco whined, “why do we have to do this the Muggle way?”

“Well, what would be the fun in using magic, Draco?”

“Faster, less messy…”

Harry rolled his eyes. All he wanted to do was make Christmas cookies with his boyfriend, then decorate them with their friends. Why did Draco have to turn everything into such a production?

“Draco, darling, you agreed to help me and last night. You were even excited about this.” Harry glared at his companion. They were at the checkout of a Muggle shop in London. It was their last stop, having gathered all the other things they would need for the gingerbread cookies. Draco had been complaining non-stop since the second shop and Harry was getting a headache.

“That was last night, before I realised that your project would involve me actually doing work,” Draco bemoaned, “I’m tired, Harry. I want to go home. My feet hurt. These bags are getting heavy. I’m cold. I have a headache. I’m hungry. I’m thirsty and I think I broke a nail.” Finishing his tirade, Draco stomped his foot and looked pathetically at Harry.

“Look, Draco, this is the last stop, then we can go home and… and… I’ll make you some hot chocolate,” Harry said quickly, hoping to appease the other young man.

“Will you make me some lunch too?” Draco asked pathetically.

Harry turned and looked at Draco. “If you promise to not complain again, I will.”

Draco grinned foolishly, motioning with his free hand that he would button his lips. Harry sighed audibly, thanking the Gods for small favours. Harry paid the shop girl in Muggle money and the two left, headed for the Leaky Cauldron. Draco kept his promise and did not utter another audible objection. Though Harry was fairly certain Draco’s brain was silently working overtime in that department.

**~A Little While Later~**

Harry had the cookbook open, carefully reading the directions. He had everything he and Draco needed out on the counter. Flour, sugar, eggs, butter and spices, measuring cups, mixer and bowls, he grinned thinking they were ready to start. Draco was leaning against the counter beside him.

“What are you smirking about?” he drawled.

“I think we’re ready to begin, Draco,” Harry smiled broadly, “this will be fun, you’ll see,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

“Oh, goodie,” Draco quipped. Though he found Harry’s enthusiasm endearing, he really would rather be snuggled up in front of the fire with the other boy.

Harry decided to ignore that remark. He leaned the cookbook against the backsplash, pushing his glasses up further on his nose, he read carefully.

“Now, let’s see we need to sift the dry ingredients together, except the sugar. Hand me that measuring cup, will you?” he asked his companion.

Draco sighed as if he was being very put upon. “Which one,” he asked, “and why exactly do we need four of these, and why different sizes?” Draco whined, picking up the measures. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Just hand me the largest one.” Draco picked up the cup and handed it to Harry, a disgusted look on his face. 

Harry glared at him. “You are going to help,” he snapped, handing Draco back the cup. “Here, measure out two of these into this sifter,” he ordered, placing a wire sieve over one of the mixing bowls. Harry began measuring the spices out, glancing at the book every so often to be sure he had everything correct.

“You know, Draco, this is a bit like potions,” he said, hoping to peak Draco’s interest. “You have to follow the directions carefully or the entire thing is ruined.”

Draco quirked his eyebrow. “Really?” he asked, finally paying attention.

“Yes,” Harry nodded, placing the spices in the sifter, “two cups, Draco,” Harry reminded him, pointing at the flour.

Draco looked at the measuring cup then the container of flour. He scooped out a cup full and dumped it on top of the spices Harry had meticulously measured out.

“DRACO!”

“What?”

“I said you have to measure everything carefully. You didn’t level that off. That’s way more then a cup full.”

“So, you said we needed two of these any way.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “How do you intend to be sure that you have two even cups?”

“Um, well – hmmm”

“Indeed, hmmm,” Harry snarled, “now this is ruined. We have to start over.” 

Harry picked up the sifter to dump the flour.

“Now, Harry, surely we don’t need to do that?” he said, reaching for the sifter in Harry’s hand. 

“Yes we do,” Harry replied, moving the sifter away from Draco.

“No, really, Harry,” Draco argued, grabbing Harry’s hand.

“Draco, let go.”

“No, we can salvage this.”

“No, we can’t.”

Draco took hold of the basket end of the sifter while Harry pulled at the handle. “Let go, Draco.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“FINE!” Draco shouted, letting go of the basket as Harry tugged hard at the handle. The force of Harry’s pull and the sudden release of Draco, sent the flour flying all over Harry.

“Damn it, Draco,” Harry coughed. Draco stared for a moment; Harry’s entire upper body was covered in a fine white powder. At first Draco thought to apologize. He really did, but then his mirth took over… Draco smirked, his mouth quirked, and then he burst into peels of high-pitched laughter. 

Harry fumed. “Stop laughing, you great git!” he spat. “Look at the mess you’ve made.”

“Me?” Draco snickered. “I didn’t do this,” he said, waving his hands over the mess.

“Just shut it, Draco.”

Harry took off his glasses, wiping them clean. He shook the flour from his hair as he brushed off his clothes. Harry slammed the sifter back over the bowl. He picked up the cup and shoved it into Draco’s hand.

“Two even cups, Draco,” he snarled.

Draco guiltily took up the cup, measuring two even amounts, as Harry requested, dumping each one in the sifter. Harry once again measured out the spices, placing them on top of the flour. He gently picked up the sifter, shaking the basket until all the flour mixture fell into the bowl. 

“Good,” he declared, “now, it says we cream together the butter and sugar.” Harry looked puzzlingly at Draco. “What do you suppose creaming is?” he asked.

“How the bloody hell would I know? This is your plan, Potter, not mine,” Draco snapped.

Harry frowned. He turned to look at Draco, his eyes sad and bottom lip protruding slightly. Draco hated that pout. He knew Harry knew that too, which irritated him further. Draco wanted to look away, but, he couldn’t. _‘Damn Gryffindor,’_ he thought gruffly.

“I just wanted to bake Christmas cookies with you, Draco.” Harry sighed pathetically. He looked down then glanced up through his long dark lashes, knowing full well Draco could not resist that look.

“Don’t you give me those eyes, Potter.” Draco tried to keep his voice angry, but his will was already bending to Harry. 

Harry’s eyes widened innocently. “I am not!”

“Are too.”

“Not.” Harry batted his eyes sweetly. “Can’t we just finish the cookies, love?” he said softly, reaching out to touch Draco’s cheek.

Draco sighed, defeated. “Perhaps it means adding cream?” he suggested, resigned to his fate of helping Harry.

“But, cream isn’t on the ingredient list.”

“Well, I don’t know. It says creaming, what else could it mean?”

Harry scrunched up his nose. “Perhaps there’s a misprint in the ingredient list.” He scratched his chin, thinking. “I dunno…” he wondered aloud, “maybe just a little.”

Draco wandered over to the cold box, bringing Harry a pint of cream. “Maybe…” he muttered.

Harry placed the butter and sugar in the metal bowl attached to the fancy Muggle mixer they had purchased earlier. He took the cream from Draco and poured a tiny bit in. Both Draco and Harry peered into the bowl.

“It doesn’t look any different,” Draco said.

“Um, it says to cream the butter with the sugar until light and fluffy,” Harry stated, reading the recipe again. 

“More cream?”

“I dunno.” Harry added more cream as the two of them stared, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did.

Draco’s impatience got the better of him. He grabbed the cream and dumped in half the pint.

“DRACO!”

“What?”

Harry could think of nothing to say. This was surely wrong, but he had no clue what creaming was exactly…

“Maybe your directions are wrong; what’s it say to do next?” Draco asked as he scratched his head, not looking at Harry.

“Um, add the egg and molasses and beat until smooth,” Harry answered.

“Well let’s try that.”

They poured the egg and molasses into the bowl.

“Um Draco, turn the blender on…”

Draco immediately flipped the switch to high…. 

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” Both boys were quickly splattered with cream, egg, sugar, molasses and bits of butter. 

“…low speed,” Harry said annoyed, shutting off the machine.

“Sorry…” Draco backed slowly away from his angry boyfriend.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Harry said through clenched teeth, “fine, really.” He plunked the bowl off the stand and dumped the contents in the sink. “We’ll just start over,” he said as he slammed the bowl back in place.

They added more butter, sugar and cream, then the egg and molasses. This time Harry turned on the mixer. He gradually turned up the speed until the mixture looked somewhat smooth.

“Okay, now we gradually add the flour mixture…. On. Low. Speed,” Harry emphasized, “until a stiff batter forms.” Draco took up the bowl of flour and began pouring it into the mixer. 

When all the flour was added, Draco looked sceptically at Harry. “This doesn’t look very stiff at all, Harry.”

Harry shut the mixer off. He took a spoon and scooped at the batter. It ran off the end of the spoon. “Um… no, it doesn’t.” Harry looked at the cookbook again. “It says to refrigerate for one hour before rolling it out. Maybe it stiffens then?” 

Draco raised his eyebrows. “Have you ever baked before, Potter?”

“Yes,” Harry said vehemently, “I’ve made cakes, but… err… only from packages,” he mumbled, blushing.

“Right.” Draco took the mixture and put it in the cold cupboard. “One hour.”

“There,” Harry said happily, “now, we can make the frosting to decorate them.”

Draco groaned loudly. “Frosting… we’re making frosting?”

“Of course we are.” Harry smiled giddily. Flipping the pages of his cookbook, he began measuring ingredients. 

Draco sighed. He’d really had enough of baking. He was now sticky and dirty. The kitchen was a mess. Dobby was sure to pitch a fit when he returned from his day off. As Draco watched Harry though, he found couldn’t stay angry or upset with the other young man. Harry just seemed so happy to be doing this with Draco. He had started to hum Christmas carols, glancing over at Draco every now and then, smiling brightly. Resignation appeared to be Draco’s mood for the day.

On hour later, they had the frosting made, coloured in reds and greens and whites, ready to decorate. The cookie cutters were all arranged neatly, waiting to be used. They pulled out the bowl of ‘dough,’ which was, although somewhat thicker, still not what one would consider stiff.

“Oh,” Harry said. as he looked at the lumpy mess…

“Oh,” Draco snarled, “oh! Harry, this is wrong. There is no way we can roll this out and cut shapes,” he shouted. “This is all fucked up. That’s what this is,” Draco snarled with an ugly, angry look on his face. “This is your fault! Bloody, fucking cookies,” he hissed.

Harry sniffed; he had just wanted to make cookies with Draco. Why did he have to be so difficult? Why did nothing turn out the way Harry wanted? Their friends would be arriving shortly and they had no cookies to decorate and instead of being helpful, Draco was snapping at his heels. Harry was tired, dirty and fed up. He had had enough of Draco’s griping…

Harry grabbed the bowl of dough from Draco, a hurt look on his face. “Why do you have to be like this?” he yelled back. “Why?”

“Like what?”

“So bloody difficult.”

“I am not. 

“Yes, you are.”

“Not.”

“Are.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I am not. You bloody ponce. It wasn’t my idea to make these blasted cookies,” Draco began, completely at the end of his rope. His voice began getting louder and louder. “I AM NOT BEING DIFFICULT. YOU ARE BEING DIFFICULT, HARRY, YOU!” he bellowed, sticking his finger in Harry’s face. “I’VE HAD IT. THIS WAS A STUPID IDEA, A BLOODY, FUCKING, STUPID IDEA. THIS HAS TO BE THE DUMBEST IDEA YOU’VE HAD YET. LOOK AT THE MESS YOU’VE MADE,” Draco stormed, moving closer to Harry’s face, so that their noses were almost touching. “WE’VE WASTED HOURS IN THIS FUCKING KITCHEN AND WHAT HAVE WE GOT FOR OUR EFFORT? I’LL TELL YOU WHAT, A BLOODY, FUCKING BLOB OF GOO!” Draco stopped, breathing hard, his anger and frustration boiling over.

Harry felt his face getting redder and redder as Draco shouted at him. _‘This was **supposed** to be fun,’_ he kept telling himself. How was this his fault? Well, okay, it was his idea to make cookies from scratch. That had seemed a good idea at the time. It certainly was not his fault Draco got flour all over the place. Nor was it his fault they had been splattered with a sticky mess. That was Draco’s doing as well. Well, almost entirely. Why was he the one being yelled at? Why couldn’t Draco just cooperate? 

“WELL, YOU GREAT PRAT, WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOUR SELF? HOW ARE YOU GOING TO FIX THIS? HMMM? ANSWER ME YOU FUCKING, LITTLE, BUGGERING, BLOODY ARSEWHOLE!” Draco demanded.

Harry felt his anger reach out as if it had a life of its own. He felt his arm raise the bowl of dough, though he could swear he did not ask it too. 

“Now, Harry…” Draco stammered…

He saw the bowl rise above his head as if it were someone else’s arm.

“Haaarry…”

He felt his wrist twist, completely of its own accord. 

“HARRY!”

He saw the mass of sticky batter plop, in one giant mass, over his lover’s head. 

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Draco squealed.

“HAPPY, FUCKING CHRISTMAS, DRACO!” 

 

 

“Harry, you bloody ponce!” Draco spat, as thick globs of batter dripped down over his face.

Harry stood for a moment, watching as the sticky batter slowly ran down his boyfriend’s face, crowned at the top with a great gooey blob. Draco’s face was flushed and his mouth working angrily as he attempted to brush away the mess, only managing to smear it all over his hands and shirt. Considering how angry Draco was, Harry found himself with the strangest urge – he wanted suddenly to kiss his lover. Thinking this might not be the best time and that Draco might actually strike him if he did attempt moving closer, Harry continued to look into Draco’s angry grey eyes, feeling lust begin to burn in his belly. He struggled to control himself, but as Draco’s tirade continued, Harry found his self-control waning rapidly…

Draco was still ranting and pulling the dough off his head, slopping it onto the floor. “I can’t believe you did this. Look at my shirt, you prat,” Draco hissed, “you stupid, wankering prat! This had better not stain, Potter, or I swear I WILL turn you into a warty toad. Look at this mess,” he whined. “Are you just going to stand there, Potter? Potter? Um… Potter… shit, Harry?” Draco suddenly noticed the look on his lover’s face. He knew that look…

Harry’s eyes were wide, lust playing in the green depths. He removed his glasses carefully placing them on the counter and licked his lips. Harry felt his heart begin to beat faster in his chest. He stepped closer to Draco…

“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME, POTTER! YOU PERVERTED PRICK! THERE IS NOTHING REMOTELY ROMANTIC ABOUT THIS!” Draco yelled, taking a quick step backward. Draco slipped on the sticky mess surrounding them. Harry reached out to stop Draco from hitting the floor. Draco’s surprised eyes met Harry’s lust filled ones and that was it for Harry. Locking glares with Draco did him in. He gripped his boyfriend tightly and crushed him to his chest.

“Ahhgg umph!” was all Draco could manage, before Harry’s mouth covered his in a hard, needy kiss. Draco attempted to push Harry away, but he couldn’t get any leverage under his feet. Slipping again he grabbed onto Harry’s shirt for support and both boys fell against the counter, knocking the frosting and cookie cutters onto the floor. The two boys soon tumbled down after. Harry fell on top of Draco, his own feet sliding out from under him. He moaned as he felt the boy beneath him struggling to free himself.

“Fuck… umph… Pott… mpph… get… umph… oh… oh… gods…. umph.” Draco tried to talk through Harry’s passionate kiss as the sticky dough smeared between their faces. Harry pulled away from Draco’s lips, his tongue darting out to lick the sweet dough off of Draco’s nose. Draco was slowly losing his battle to stay mad with Harry, as Harry’s sensuous tongue began lapping at his cheeks, sucking his way down along his jaw.

His mouth finally free of Harry’s, Draco found his voice, “Potter, for piss sakes…”

“Mmm, Draco…” Harry moaned.

“Potter, ahh… oh, sweet Merlin!” Draco lost all train of thought when Harry started nibbling below his right ear. “Don’t stop… Gods don’t….” Harry continued his onslaught on Draco’s neck, causing his lover to gasp and groan. His hands slid down Draco’s sides and slipped under his shirt. Finding Draco’s nipples, Harry began pinching and twisting the tender nubs. “Oh fuck, Harry…”

“Yes…” suck, lick, “mmmm,” kiss, bite, “fuck Harry,” Harry said lustily, mimicking Draco.

Harry lifted his head and looked into Draco’s eyes. Smiling, he wrinkled up his nose in mock disgust. “Draco, you’re a mess.” He sighed, his tongue licking Draco’s chin.

Growling, Draco rolled over, pinning Harry below him. Harry yelped at the sudden change of position. “Baby?” he questioned, seeing the predatory look in Draco’s eyes.

Draco reached one of his long arms up to the counter, searching for something. “Yessss,” he hissed, finding what he wanted. Harry looked puzzled at his love. “Baby, what…”

Before Harry could finish, Draco’s hand reappeared with a wand and Harry found himself naked under Draco’s larger frame.

“DRACO!” he squealed, wriggling to get out from beneath the larger boy.

Draco groaned, throwing his head back as Harry’s erection rubbed unintentionally against his throbbing cock. Noticing the tube of white frosting lying next to Harry’s head, Draco reached for it, a wicked gleam in his eye…

“Draco…” Harry said warningly.

“You like to play with your food, puppet? Hmmm?” Draco smirked. 

“Baby… Oh, oh… Draco…” Harry gasped as Draco’s mouth latched onto his nipple, biting down hard. Harry felt an odd sensation on his other nipple. Looking down, he watched as Draco squeezed frosting over the tight nub. His lover’s mouth then descended, roughly licking the sugar-coated bud.

“Mmmm, vanilla…” Draco moaned, “I love vanilla.” Smiling, he rubbed his face into Harry’s chest, smearing sticky gingerbread dough all over. 

Draco placed his knees around Harry’s hips, preventing him from getting away. He then squeezed all the frosting onto his green-eyed lover’s torso. Discarding the pastry bag over his shoulder, he began massaging the sugary substance all over Harry’s chest and belly.

Harry’s hands worked frantically to remove Draco’s shirt. Frustrated, he pulled hard, sending the tiny buttons flying, ripping the shirt off of Draco, his hands seeking to touch every inch they could reach.

“Puppet, that was one of my favourite shirts,” Draco gasped. “You’ll pay for that,” he murmured, before he licked from Harry’s belly button straight up to the base of his neck.

“Ohhhh…. mmm… it… it… oh Gods… it… was ruined… oh… anyway,” Harry half sobbed as Draco’s mouth continued its onslaught across his abdomen.

Draco slid his body down Harry’s, sucking, licking and biting every inch of skin. Reaching his goal, he settled in between Harry’s slender legs. He looked around, seeking something. His eye caught the bag of red frosting. Smirking again, Draco took the bag in one hand and Harry’s cock in the other. Slowly he squeezed the red confection over the tip of Harry’s prick and down the centre to the base of his sack. Harry watched him through lust lidded eyes, his bottom lip clenched between his teeth.

Draco dragged his tongue back up the line of frosting, swirling it around the head. “Fuck…” Harry hissed, “fuck, Draco, mmm, baby, so… ungh.”

Draco nibbled and sucked the top of Harry’s cock, cleaning away most of the frosting before taking the entire member into his mouth, sucking hard. The combination of vanilla, sugar and Harry was intoxicating. Draco swallowed every bit, humming with satisfaction. Harry shouted Draco’s name, bucking his hips to push himself further into his lover’s mouth. Draco steadied his lover with one hand on Harry’s stomach, his mouth working Harry into a complete sex stupor. With his other hand he began gently playing with Harry’s balls, squeezing gently and rubbing the soft skin behind.

Harry was lost, completely and totally lost in the pleasure of Draco’s mouth and hands, blocking out any coherent thought. If he had not been so lost, he might have wondered where Draco found lube on the kitchen floor. But, the feeling of Draco’s slick finger pushing into his body and twisting, combined with the sucking and stroking of his cock, temporarily rendered him mindless.

Draco, now adding a second finger, did not hesitate to use the first thing on hand to help prepare his lover. The pastry bag was jammed under his knee, allowing him to keep both hands free to distract Harry. He knew in the back of his head that his partner might not like this particular use of icing, but, he was far too horny to go looking for something better. He wanted to bury himself inside of Harry and he wanted to do it quickly. His passion was reaching a fevered pitch and he needed release.

As he added a third finger, Harry began thrusting back onto Draco’s hand. Feeling he could wait no longer to be inside of the tight heat that was Harry, Draco pulled his fingers out of Harry’s arse and removed his mouth from Harry’s prick, kissing the tip. Draco unzipped his pants to free his own neglected erection. He squeezed a good amount of frosting into his hand to coat his own cock. 

Harry whimpered in protest when the cool air hit his wet erection. Looking down to see what his lover was doing, he vaguely recognized what Draco was up to, but soon forgot when he felt Draco pull his legs up over his shoulders. He felt the tip of Draco’s cock against his opening and it did not matter what he was thinking anymore at all. Sucking in a breath, he waited for Draco to fill him.

Draco pushed past the tight, rough ring, groaning loudly as he felt the heat embrace his prick. He moved slowly into Harry, listening to his lover gasping and sighing. Gods, it was so good. Harry’s muscles clenched around his cock in just the right way; no one had ever felt as good as Harry. Seated as far as he could go he waited a moment…

“Fuck, Draco, fuck… baby, fuck me.” Harry sighed, his eyes locking with Draco’s, “Merlin, so good, fuck me, lover…”

Draco smiled greedily and began to gently slide in and out of Harry, his lover’s purring sounds driving him mad. He began picking up the pace driving in harder. Harry moved his legs, clutching his thighs tightly around Draco’s waist, seeking to get his lover deeper. Each thrust of Draco’s prick hit Harry’s prostate, sending shivers of delight up Harry’s spine. Draco knew he could not possibly hold out much longer so he reached between their bodies and began pumping Harry’s engorged cock in time with his own penetrating thrusts.

Quickly, the two could feel the brink of ecstasy approaching. Draco’s thrusts became more and more erratic, sweat and heat and sex surrounding them like a silky blanket. Staring intently into each other’s eyes, their breathing in time with one another, nothing so perfect ever existed as this connection. The world tilted on its side as they approached mutual satisfaction.

Draco felt the hot come cover his hand. Harry shouted out his name, moaning in ecstasy. Harry’s clenching arse spilled Draco over the edge into his own orgasm, screaming Harry’s name in return. Collapsing onto Harry’s trembling body he drove through his final pinnacle, thrusting against Harry’s pleasure zone one last time. Harry’s arm wound tightly around Draco as they both came down.

Draco kissed Harry deeply, almost distractingly, a queer look on his face as he pulled his flaccid member out of Harry. Harry pulled his mouth away, questioning Draco with his eyes…

“Baby?” he asked.

“Mmmhmmm…”

“What did you use for lube?”

“Um… you don’t want to ask that now, Harry…”

“Draco…”

“Harry, what time did you tell everyone to come over?”

“Shit!”

From where they were lying on the kitchen floor, Draco, being on top of Harry, could clearly see the kitchen door. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Please, Draco, tell me they are not…”

“Errr… I could… puppet,” Draco said calmly, “but that would be a lie.”

Harry strained his neck around to look at the entryway.

“Fuck!”

“That’s an interesting use of frosting, Draco,” Blaise said casually.

“Indeed,” Hermione agreed, “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone make Christmas cookies like that before.”

“Right,” Ron groaned, “I don’t think I will ever be able to look at a gingerbread man ever again.” Ron had a look of pure horror on his face. “Let alone eat one,” he added.

“Does anyone have a camera?” Pansy asked, snickering. “This would make a lovely Christmas card.”

Harry moaned as he clutched Draco closer too him, suddenly very much aware of his lack of clothing and sticky bits. Ignoring the four in the door he looked at Draco, thinking sticky bits… frosting… 

“Fuck!”

“Now, now, puppet…”

“You used the frosting for lube, didn’t you?”

“I love making Christmas cookies with you, puppet,” Draco moaned, kissing his lover passionately again, completely ignoring the snickers from the kitchen door. 

“Happy fucking Christmas, Harry.”


End file.
